Redemption
by Adriana Morgan
Summary: It has been four years since the Blight was ended and Emily Cousland's love left her. Will she be able to find redemption after betraying the only man she's ever loved. Major end game spoilers!
1. Chapter 1

**Redemption **

**Chapter 1**

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world.

A/N: This takes place four years after the Blight. I was playing the game earlier today and finally decided to recruit Loghain. I had been holding off on it because I knew my PC would lose Alistair. Anyway, this is after that event took place. I apologize if Alistair is OOC, he will be more in character as the story progresses. This is the first fanfiction I have written in six years and I have no beta reader so forgive me if it's a bit rough around the edges and I hope you enjoy the story. :)

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The tavern was small and nondescript. Much like every other tavern she had stopped at in her travels. She was tired and sore after a day of walking and wanted nothing more than to find a place to camp for the night and collapse into her bedroll. But she knew that if she failed to show up for this meeting, Zevran would worry. He would never admit this of course, but he would make some excuse to find her camp that night no matter how well hidden she might think she was. She didn't know how he did it but he had managed to always know her location, sending her messages if he thought he had found someone she might consider for recruitment. So here she was pushing open the door to another drinking establishment. Her heart gave a leap of what could only be anticipation for the meeting. It had been a while since she had seen Zevran and she found herself missing him. Once she had finally made it perfectly clear that she would not be bedding him, he had become a very loyal and dear friend. He had been her shoulder to cry on in the days leading up to the battle with the archdemon; after Alistair had left. He had been the only one that could almost make her forget how much her heart hurt. She knew he wanted more than just a friendship with her but she was too bruised to let herself fall in love again. After the battle and coronation of Anora, she had declined his offer to travel with her, preferring to be alone with her thoughts. However, there were still nights that she missed the company of her friends…and missed Alistair most of all.

She pushed her thoughts of the ex-Templar and Grey Warden aside and glanced around the dimly lit room. The establishment was only half full at the moment but she knew it was still early yet. Her eyes scanned over the patrons, looking for someone who Zev might think a worthy candidate for the Grey Wardens and for Zev himself. She saw no elves among the customers and only one man who was not too old or too out of shape to consider. Her gaze came back to the man at the bar, his back was to her but he seemed familiar. His broad shoulders were slumped, and as she moved towards a table in a dark corner of the room she could see his long fingers wrapped around his mug of ale, his gaze staring down into its amber depths. His hair was long but clean and pulled back, held in place with a leather thong. He sported a full beard that hid most of his facial features and from this side angle she still could not place where she had seen him before.

Finally succeeding in winding her way through the small crowd, she unsheathed the daggers on her back and sat them on the table in front of her for easy access. The people here seemed harmless enough but she had found that looks could be more than deceiving in that area. Having the weapons out and easily accessible not only made her feel more secure, it also tended to deter any would be suitors. She leaned back in her chair and ordered ale she knew she probably wouldn't drink from the barmaid. Her eyes roamed around the room but kept returning to the man at the bar. Who was he? Why was he so familiar? She kept a constant watch on the door, waiting for her friend, but her eyes always seemed to gravitate back to the lone man at the bar. The barmaid returned and Emily nodded her thanks taking a small sip of ale. Her nose turned up in disgust at the bitter taste and she quickly set the mug back down. She had never been able to acquire a taste for the stuff; no matter how many times Oghren had made her sample his latest stash.

She sat for what seemed like hours, watching friends raise their cups in some kind of celebration, farmers enter from a hard day's work to relax and catch up on local gossip, and as the night grew later scantily clad women begin to weave their way through the crowd. She shifted her weight in her seat and looked once again at the door. Zevran had failed to mention just what kind of tavern this was.

"Punctual as always." A heavily accented voice commented from the vicinity of her shoulder and she jumped slightly in surprise.

"How in the world do you do that?" She asked with a smile as Zevran took the seat across from her. "I've been watching the door the whole time and didn't see you arrive."

He shrugged one shoulder and smirked. "I am an assassin that is what I do. It would be a very bad showing if the mark saw me before I sank my dagger in his back."

"Still in the business then?"

"It is hard to stay away from what one trained to do. But we are not here to discuss my…endeavors."

Emily nodded, letting the matter drop. She knew that Zevran had returned to his old ways of earning a living only now working for himself. She didn't begrudge him his choice of professions but couldn't quite approve of them either. "Where is this promising recruit you mentioned?"

"Why I would have thought it was obvious, my Grey Warden. Your eyes have rarely left him the entirety of the evening."

Involuntarily, her gaze returned to the man at the bar who was now swaying drunkenly in his seat. "Him?!" She asked incredulously. "Zev, he can't even hold himself up straight and you want me to test him for recruitment?"

"I rather doubt testing will be necessary."

"Oh you do, do you? Why is that? Have you seen him fight?"

"Many times." Zevran replied with a mysterious grin on his face. "He is quite formidable…when he's sober that is."

She sighed and shook her head. "I trust you, Zev, but I can't just recruit someone without knowing anything about their skill. It's true that our order is desperate for members but-"

"Do you truly not recognize him?" The elf interrupted with a raised eyebrow. "He has changed, yes, but I believed you of all people would know him."

Emily opened her mouth to respond but her voice failed her when she heard the man from the bar speak.

"I used to be a Grey Warden, you know." He was saying quite loudly to the bartender, his words slightly slurred. "I can sense darkspawn, you see."

"That so?" The heavy bartender placed his hands and his hips and glared at the man. "Then why don't you go kill some and give that stool a rest. You been sittin' there most of the day."

The man waved a hand in the hair in a dismissive gesture and let out a small belch. "There aren't any darkspawn around here. Besides, I'm not a Warden anymore. I quit. I couldn't stay, not after she…" His voice trailed off and he drained his mug with two huge swallows. "More ale!" He exclaimed slamming it back on the bar.

The bartender shook his head in irritation and refilled the mug, shoving it back at the drunk man. "That's the last one I'm servin' you. Finish it quick and get out, you're disturbin' my other customers."

"Give him a break, Silas." One of the barely dressed women pouted at the irate bartender, slipping her arm around the drunk man's shoulders. "He's had a hard time of it, he has."

"He's gonna have an even worse time if he don't get out of my sight." Silas growled. "I'm tired of looking at him and even more tired of hearing his stories."

"Is that any way to talk to a prince?" The drunkard asked, his voice getting even louder.

"I don't care if you're the ruler of Thedas; I'm not servin' you anymore. I've done warned you about making a ruckus the past two nights. It's bad for business. Now drink up and go." The man glared at the bartender but nodded and raised the drink to his lips.

Emily gaped in astonishment. "It can't be." She whispered, her eyes returning to her friend. "What…why?" She choked out, the fury building inside her.

"It is and as to why, I imagine you know the answer to that better than I do."

"No, I mean why did you bring me here?" Her voice rose in volume slightly and she had to force herself to loosen her grip on the hilt of the dagger she had not realized she had reached for. "Of all the…I thought we were friends, Zevran."

Zevran smiled sadly. "And so we are, my Grey Warden. I brought you here because he is the part of you that is missing. Deny it to me if you must but we both know it is the truth."

"How…how did you find him?" Her body relaxed back into her chair. She looked at Alistair across the room and now understood why he looked so familiar but so much like a stranger. He was the man she had fallen in love with but the years appeared to have been rough on him. Her eyes drank in the sight of him and memories flooded back to her unbidden. She recognized subtle signs that she was the man she knew; the long fingers wrapped around the mug in front of him, the muscular arms, the voice that had whispered words of love to her late in the night. He was now whispering words to the whore that was practically sitting on his lap and she was surprised to find herself jealous. She forcefully pushed those thoughts away and focused on the small assassin.

"It was not easy, let me tell you." He was saying leaning his elbows on the table. "Every time I would get a lead and investigate, I would always seem to arrive too late. It was almost as if he knew I was on to him. He never stays in one place more than a day or two. For some reason he has been here four days now. I sent you word not knowing if he would show up but I took a chance. It would seem my gamble paid off."

"Yes, I can see why he's stayed so long." She remarked dryly, watching as the woman threw her head back in laughter at something he had said. "What do you expect me to do? Go up to him and reminiscence about old times? Zev, he hates me!"

Zevran made a small sound of disapproval. "He does not hate you. He is still hurt, yes, but my sources tell me he speaks often of the love he left behind. He also speaks of his regret that he is not strong enough to return to her. So…I took the matter into my own hands, I hope you do not mind."

"Yes, he appears as if he misses me very much." She gestured to bar where Alistair was now letting woman feed him pieces of cheese.

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a young man.

"I know you!" He exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of almost everyone else in the tavern. "You're that woman…the Grey Warden! You defeated the arch demon and saved us all!" Emily made a small negative gesture and felt panic bubble in her stomach. Not now she thought. Dear Maker, not now. "Yeah, it _is _you. Wow, what an honor to meet you, the hero of Ferelden." The man grasped her hand and shook it as Emily grimaced. This was not the first time someone had recognized her but it was the first time she wished she could crawl into the ground and disappear.

"I'm sorry but I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else." She managed say in between exclamations.

"No, you're the Grey Warden, I'm sure of it." The red haired man said with conviction. "I was there when the Queen-"

"The lady has said you are mistaken, my friend" Zevran interrupted in a dangerous tone. "I suggest you unhand her and return to your woman, she is looking quite lonely."

"I…yes, of course." The man stuttered and bowed slightly to Emily. "My apologies, my lady."

Emily nodded soundlessly and prayed that Alistair had not heard the small exchange. She tried to convince herself the man's voice had not been so loud and they _were_ across the room from her former lover. Her eyes shot quickly to Alistair, hoping he was too far in his cups to have heard the commotion but felt her heart sink when she found him looking directly at her. Their eyes met and her breath caught when she realized there was no recognition at all in his gaze. He stared at her blankly as if staring at the wall. He blinked once and returned his attention to the woman beside him and Emily felt her heart break all over again.

"I-I have to go." She said standing and quickly sheathing her weapons. "I appreciate what you tried to do, Zev. I really do but please…don't do it again."

"If I have made you angry, I apologize." He answered, he too getting to his feet. He placed a hand on her arm, halting her. "I worry for you, Emily. Ever since the day he left, you are not the woman you were when I met you. The woman I met had compassion, mercy and a love for life despite the tragedies in her life. I merely thought to mend that that was broken."

Her hand covered his and she squeezed it tightly, gaining strength from his touch. "I know and I appreciate the thought but that girl is gone. She has grown up and realized that compassion and mercy are a double edged sword; and she's weary of being wounded." She shot one final glance at the man she had loved so much and made her way though the crowd, almost unable to find the door through the tears that blurred her vision.


	2. Chapter 2

**Redemption**

**Chapter 2**

Disclaimer: Don't own any of this

A/N: Thank you to all the readers. It's nice to know people are enjoying it (at least I hope so!). I have edited and re-edited this chapter so much so that I can't decide if I've made it better or worse.

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Emily sat in front of the small fire and held her hands up, letting the heat warm her numb fingers. She tried but couldn't ignore the small tremor that ran through them that had nothing to do with the cold. Alistair; it had been four years since she had last seen him and to have suddenly been in the same room with him had shaken her, to say the least. Heat rose to her face again when she remembered that he had not been alone. She knew it was irrational to be angry. It had been years since they were anything to each other and he was certainly no longer hers. But the Alistair she had known would have firmly but politely extricated himself from said woman whether he was in a relationship or not. Emily couldn't help but smile as she remembered his discomfort when business had led them to pay a visit to Denerim's brothel. She had been afraid that her fellow Grey Warden would combust on the spot from embarrassment. She had been amazed he had not tripped over anything as his eyes had been on the ceiling for the majority of their visit; so different from the man who had appeared to be unable to remove his gaze from his companion's chest earlier tonight. It has been painfully obvious that he had not recognized her and it hurt to realize she had been so easily discarded. Yes, he had left her after she had spared Loghain's life but she had always hoped he still thought of her.

She had been angry at Zevran as she set up her campsite. She barely remembered erecting her tent or building the fire she now sat before. Apparently she had eaten too, if the dirty plate and cup beside her were any indication. Her anger at him was gone now and she could let herself forgive her friend for his deceit. He was correct when he said something in her was broken. Memories of nights just like this one came to her and she closed her eyes, letting her forehead rest on her raised knees. How many times had she and Alistair kept watch together, talking through the night about their pasts and what their plans were after the Blight was over? Too many to count, she knew. In the weeks after he had left, she had missed his friendship most of all. Zevran had been there to help her pick up the pieces of her broken heart but it had never been the same. Alistair was the one who could always make her laugh, no matter how sour a mood she was in. A grin and a quick one liner and her bad mood was all but forgotten. She wondered again how things would have been different if she had executed Loghain. Alistair would have stayed, that she knew but she would have never been able to forgive herself for it. And if she had allowed Alistair to carry out the deed, she would never have been able to forgive him. So she had done what her conscience had told her and let him hate her instead. It was easier that way.

Exhaustion finally overtook her and she threw a few twigs on the fire before crawling into her open tent. She was barely able to close the flap behind her and crawl into her bedroll before her heavy eyes closed and she gratefully fell asleep. She awoke with a start hours later and lay still trying to figure out what had awoken her. She heard the sound of footsteps on dry leaves and the muttered cursing of a male voice. Her daggers were immediately in her hands and she bounded to her feet, crouching in the small tent. Every sense was focused on the strange presence in her camp and she berated herself for not putting out the fire before turning in for the night. She had learned in her years of traveling that leaving a fire burning made her much easier to detect by a roaming bandit searching for an easy prey. So what if she shivered through the night, at least she would be alive come morning. It had been months since she had had to kill a man for trying to take advantage of a woman traveling alone and she didn't relish the thought that she might have to resort to killing tonight. Over the years, and thanks to Zevran's tutelage, she had refined her skill for taking a man's life but she never enjoyed it.

The shadow of a man appeared at the flap to her tent and her hands tightened around her daggers, her body tensing for battle. She watched the figure crouch and her heart raced, her breath coming in short gasps. She forced herself to slow her breathing and took a silent step forward. Any moment she expected the piece of canvas to be thrown aside but the figure just sat motionless. It returned to a standing position and moved away and Emily's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Not an ordinary bandit then, she thought to herself and eased out of the tent. She could see the man standing at the edge of the fire's light and she silently walked towards him, thankful she had not thought to put on her boots. The ground was cold beneath her bare feet but she didn't notice as she overtook the large figure. Her dagger dug into the soft flesh of his neck and she knew the tip had drawn blood. The night's events had dulled her usual finesse and she mentally kicked herself.

"Don't move or I swear I will slit your throat and leave you for the wolves." She hissed into his ear. Her other dagger pressed into his side and she felt him make a small affirmative gesture. She quickly ran her eyes over what she could see of the camp, checking for others who might be hiding in the shadows. "Are there others?" He jerked his head slightly no and she tightened her grip and she felt more than heard his quick intake of breath. "Don't lie to me!"

He let out a strangled reply and she suddenly realized she knew the man in her grasp and she thought her heart would jump right out of her chest. _Maker help me, he smells the same. _She would have thought he'd smell like a brewery by now but she could detect nothing of the alcohol he had consumed. Her eyes closed and for a split second she rested her head on his shoulder. She was pressed tight against him and the familiar sensation of his body against hers made her knees weak. She took a deep breath and let her hands fall to her sides, immediately missing the heat from his body as the cold night touched her.

As he turned to face her, she tossed the daggers lightly in the air and caught them in an over-handed catch, preparing to re-sheath them on her back. She remembered that her sheaths were back in her tent and sighed. She believed it was fair to say that tonight had been less than stellar. She crouched and drove them into the ground before her, not trusting herself to hold onto them with shaking hands, and looked up at him. "Alistair."

"Emmie." He replied in greeting and gingerly touched his neck. She saw there was blood on his fingers when he pulled them away and forced herself not to go to him.

She busied herself by retrieving her pack from where she had left it by the fire, removing a small square bandage and tossing it to him. "What are you doing here?" She asked bluntly, wishing he would just leave. Hearing him call her Emmie had thrown her off guard and she was having a hard time recovering. He had been the only one to ever call her that and it brought back too many memories.

"You've learned some new skills it would seem." He answered instead, pressing the bandage against his neck.

"Zevran is a good teacher."

Alistair snorted and moved closer to the fire. "I just bet he is." He stopped and cleared his throat, fingering the bandage in his hands and dropping his eyes. She could almost convince herself he was embarrassed. "Are the two of you…together now?"

"I don't see as how that's any of your business." She said coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. "How did you find me?"

"Zevran."

Emily let out a small laugh and shook her head in disbelief. "I'm going to kill that little Antivan bastard." She muttered.

"No, I…well to be honest I all but begged him bring me." He scratched at his beard. "I was surprised to see you in the tavern, to say the least."

"I'm surprised you were able to see anything past the ample bosom of your companion."

"My companion…oh you mean the….well that…wasn't what it looked like." He stuttered and she could see his face redden.

"Whatever it was is none of my concern, I was merely making an observation. However I suppose it's nice to see you have not been lacking for…friendship." She couldn't help the bitterness in her voice. Not wanting to delve further into that topic of conversation she quickly changed the subject. "How did you manage to make it all the way out here when last I saw you could barely sit straight, much less walk."

"Yes well, it's amazing how a dip in an ice cold lake will insure almost instant sobriety. I'm amazed you couldn't hear me screaming all the way over here. I thought I would die but it's the only way Zevran would agree to show me the way."

"I think he's just been forgiven." She remarked imagining Alistair freezing as the cold water swallowed him up. She couldn't deny a small amount of pleasure in his suffering. "Well, here I am; why was finding me so important?"

His discomfort was clear as he cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "I wanted to…apologize. I was going to do it in the tavern but by the time I realized it was really you and not some…apparition…you were gone. That was probably for the best, to be honest. I was so drunk by that point…well let's just say I would have made a bigger ass of myself than I already had." His eyes met hers and she could see the stark longing in them. "So many times I've wanted to contact you, to find out how you were doing. But I was a coward and convinced myself that hearing the odd piece of gossip I heard here and there was enough. I…I've missed you Emmie." He paused and took a step forward closing the distance between them.

"I want you to leave. Now." She choked out and quickly retrieved her daggers, turning to return to her tent.

"Wait…what?" He stood there confusion evident in his voice. "I just told you how much I've missed you and all you can say is you want me to _leave_?"

Emily spun around, anger rushing through her. "What do you expect me to say, Alistair? Four years…it's been _four years _since I've heard anything about you. You've had the luxury of "hearing rumors here and there" but I haven't had any such luck. You disappeared and I had no idea if you were alive or dead. Now you show up, apologize and expect me to what? Fall into your arms in gratitude? Cry and tell you how sorry I am that I spared someone's life? Say that I wish I had made a different choice? I can't do those things so why don't you just do what you do best? Leave."

She felt a twinge of satisfaction when she saw the spark of anger in his eyes. Good, now he would leave and she could get back to her life. She could ignore how easily she wanted to what she had just told him she couldn't. In two long strides he closed the distance between them and grasped her by the arms.

"Please, Emmie."

"Don't call me that!" She exclaimed but didn't pull away from him. His fingers were bruising her arms but she didn't care; she was too numb to feel it. "You lost the right to call me anything when you walked away from me. You _left _me, Alistair. You didn't care about hearing my side of things, you simply walked away as if I never existed."

"You let Duncan's murderer go free." He said angrily. "How could I stand beside someone who had killed the only person who cared about me and call him Brother?"

"_I _cared about you." She answered not caring that her voice broke. "I loved you but it didn't matter. Yes, I let him live because if I had killed him I would have been no better than him. I didn't do it as his punishment or to give him the honor of being a Grey Warden. I did it because my conscience wouldn't let me do otherwise. We needed him and if you knew Duncan half as well as you say then you know he would have understood that there were bigger things at stake than vengeance." She pulled away from his grasp and wrapped her arms around her middle. "From the beginning you cast me into the role as leader and expected me to make all the hard decisions. I made the decision that I thought was right and you damned me for it. Thank you…for apologizing but forgive me if it doesn't mean all that much to me."

Throughout her speech she could see the anger melt away from him, replaced by something she could almost believe was sympathy. The tears she had tried so hard to contain had finally gotten their way and were streaming down her face but she didn't try to hide them. So many times after he was gone she had laid awake at night, the words screaming in her head. The longing to touch him making her fingers tingle. Now here he was, standing before her and all she could do was lose control of the emotions she had learned so well to hide.

Then suddenly he was kissing her and she couldn't even remember him moving towards her. His lips felt familiar but different at the same time as his beard scratched the soft skin of her face. She was surprised that she found the sensation pleasant and moaned when she felt his tongue part her lips and find her own. She wanted to push him away but found her arms wrapping around him, pulling him close to her. For a moment she allowed herself to enjoy the pressure of his mouth on hers, one hand on the small of her back, the other gently cupping her head. Then she pulled away and met his eyes knowing she had to send him away.

"You have to leave." She said clearly and pulled away from his embrace. Alistair stared at her with naked desire and she steeled herself. "I mean it. You have to go. This can't happen."

"Is there any way I can make this right?" He asked thickly and she wanted so badly to tell him yes. To tell him that just his being there made it all better but she couldn't. She had to send him away or risk having her heart broken again.

"No. I'm in love with someone else." She hoped he wouldn't see the lie and raised her chin defiantly. "With Zevran, if you must know." She answered before he could ask. "He was there for me which is more than I can say for you."

"Oh I'm sure he was there for you alright. There to warm your bed. How soon after I was gone did he replace me in that respect?" Alistair asked bitterly, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

She stared at him speechlessly for a moment, resisting the urge to slap him. After all they had been through for him to think her feelings were so easily transferred was almost too much to bear.

"Who…_are _you?" She managed to push past the lump in her throat. "Because you surely are not the man I once knew." Her eyes narrowed in a glare. "Maybe I never really did. For surely a man who professes his love to someone doesn't leave her to her fate alone. I would have done _anything _for you, Alistair. It's a shame you couldn't say the same." She sensed rather than saw him reach for her and she shook her head violently. "Don't you dare touch me. The night before the battle…how scared do you think I was?

Zevran was there for me. He helped me come to terms with what had to be done and has been a true friend to me since then. For you to cheapen that by suggesting that I'm some whore who could easily replace one man for another is…is…" Her tears would not let her go on.

She remembered the days following that final battle and how heartbroken she had been. How it had been so tempting to let Zevran come to her bed and comfort her but not letting herself accept what was so earnestly offered because of her loyalty to Alistair. It didn't matter that he was no longer there to know or care. He had shown her what it was like to be with someone she loved beyond measure and she couldn't be with anyone else without thinking of him.

Giving up she turned and gathered her things. She could feel his eyes on her as she broke down her tent and packed it away and she tried not to let him see her hands shake as she fastened the sheaths to her back and rested her daggers inside. Finally she turned to him and hoisted up her pack. "I'm leaving since you won't. Do not follow me, Alistair. Just…forget I exist…again" As hard as she tried she couldn't keep her voice from breaking and quickly turned to disappear into the dark night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Redemption**

**Chapter 3**

Disclaimer: I do not own Alistair (pity that), Zevran or any of the locations in this story. They all belong to Bioware/EA and the wonderful authors who gave these character life.

A/N: This chapter was SO hard to write. It's shorter than the previous two but there are at least two more chapters coming. Thank you to those of you who have subscribed and/or reviewed! I'm glad you are enjoying the drama. :)

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Alistair cracked open one bloodshot eye, then quickly squeezed it shut against the blinding white sunlight. If the inescapable brightness was any indication, he must have been too far gone the night before to even attempt erecting even the crudest shelter. This would not be the first morning he woke in the middle of nowhere lying on the cold bare ground. Despite the inability to construct any protection from the elements, he had obviously been able to come up with a makeshift bed seeing as how the surface beneath him was soft and warm from his body. After all, it didn't take as much coordination to crawl around gathering leaves. Giving a snort of self derision, he could imagine himself drunkenly on hands and knees blindly sweeping whatever he could find into a pile to pass out on. While he may have had the presence of mind to make himself comfortable he highly doubted he had considered the colony of insects that could, at this moment, be crawling under his clothes.

This thought spurred him into action and he sat up quickly, groaning as his head began to throb and a wave of nausea ran through his body. Head in hands he sat as the sickness slowly ebbed away. Sounds of muffled voices came to him and he felt foolish when he suddenly realized he wasn't in some makeshift campsite but in a bed. This realization snapped open his eyes and he looked wildly around the room. Panic set in when he discovered not only was he in a room he had never seen before but he was naked beneath the thin blanket that covered him. Thinking quickly as his aching head would allow him, he could not recall anything of the night before past returning to the tavern and indulging in a few more drinks. His confrontation with Emily had shaken him. Hurt and anger at her refusal to accept his apology drove him back to the only comfort he had found in the past four years; drunken oblivion. When she had left him glaring after her in the dark, he had considered following her even though she had said not to. By the time he had made up his mind to do so, however, it was too late. He had briefly tried to track her but soon gave up. Unless it was darkspawn he was tracking, he was more than useless.

He pushed thoughts of Emily painfully away, wrapping the blanket around his waist and slowly getting to his feet. Getting out of…wherever was his primary concern but first he would need to locate his clothes. A quick survey of the room produced nothing but frustration and discomfort. A search of the chest and armoire turned up nothing but women's clothing; the vanity's surface a display of powder and hair pins. _Maker's breath! _He thought to himself. _What did I do last night? _The obvious answer filled him with shame. Casual sex had never been something he practiced, his years in the Chantry teaching him that intimacy was something to be treasured not thoughtlessly shared with anyone. Apparently his morals had gone straight out the window because why else would he be naked in a strange woman's bedroom? This line of thinking convinced him he would have to find his clothing even if it meant leaving the small room. Building up his courage to do just this, he placed one hand on the latch of the door and was caught off guard when it opened before him.

"Oh so you're awake!" The striking woman in front of him exclaimed. Alistair recognized her as the woman who had attached herself to him the night before and felt his face go red. He remembered Emily's words, his gaze falling to the young woman's chest before he could stop himself. Eyes quickly snapping back up to her face he opened his mouth then closed it, not sure what to say. What did one say to someone they had just spent the night with but didn't know?

"It's mid-afternoon, you know." The woman was saying entering the room as Alistair backed away in embarrassment. "Here are your clothes, freshly laundered just like your friend asked."

"My…friend?" Emily's face came to mind, her eyes dark with anger.

"Yes, the elf that was with you last night. Never did tell me his name, just paid me for the use of my room and cleaning your clothes. Handsome fellow he was. I don't suppose he'll be coming back will he?"

Ignoring her question he gestured toward the bed. "How did I end up…here?"

"The two of you argued and you passed out after trying to punch him. He carried you up here himself and I helped him undress you. The hand you tried to punch him with happened to be same hand you were holding your mug with. Seeing as how the contents ended up on your clothes, I didn't want my bed stinking of alcohol." Her eyebrow arched over one emerald green eye, her silent reprimand apparent in the tone of her voice.

"We didn't…I mean…nothing happened did it? Between us, I mean?" The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Seeing the amusement in the woman's eyes his blush deepened. "You're very beautiful but I just…" He let his voice trail off, wishing he was anywhere but there.

"Don't worry, dear. Your Emmie has nothing to worry about." Her eyes ran over his naked chest and she sighed wistfully. "More's the pity."

Alistair cleared his throat, holding the blanket tighter. "Is she…here?" _Maker, please don't let her be here. _He thought and was relieved when the woman shook her head.

"No, you kept repeating her name as we undressed you. She must be someone pretty important." Her head tilted in curiosity, her sympathy apparent in her gaze.

"Yes…well…my clothes? Can I have them? Please." Taking the clothes when she held them out, he silently thanked and cursed Zevran for his help. While he was grateful that the assassin had apparently procured him shelter for the night, Alistair could not help but think that his friend had purposely stuck him in this embarrassing situation on purpose.

"Thank you…"

"My name's Rosita and you're quite welcome. As I said, your friend paid me for the room; paid quite handsomely in fact. I'll leave you to get dressed now. You'll want to be on your way if you're to attend the wedding. Highever is a three day journey after all."

"There's…to be a wedding…in Highever?" Alistair's throat tightened, making speech almost impossible. Emily's family home was in Highever. A small knot of dread formed in his gut. "Whose?"

Rosita shrugged. "We don't keep up with the lives of nobles around here. I believe your friend mentioned the name Cousland but I just assumed you would know; seeing as how he was quite insistent that you be on your way in time to make it."

Alistair felt the blood drain from his face, almost dropping the blanket as his body went numb. Emily's claims of being in love with Zevran returned to him, his heart skipping a beat as he realized the implications of the elf's indirect invitation. Trying to regain control of himself he nodded and forced a smile. "Of course." He managed to say. "It…must have slipped my mind. Thank you…I'll just…get dressed."

If Rosita made a reply he could not hear, the blood pounding in his ears drowning out all but his frantic thoughts. He had convinced himself that Emily had been lying about her feelings for Zevran. He had never gotten the sense that she felt anything but friendship for the elf but he _had_ been away for four years. A lot could change in that time and in the light of day her refusal to answer any questions about her current relationship now appeared very telling. Their intimate conversation in the tavern and the way they had touched briefly before she left fueled the jealousy inside him. Now the little bastard was rubbing his loss in his face by "inviting" him to their wedding.

When the door shut quietly behind Rosita, Alistair discarded the blanket and quickly dressed, his hands shaking from fury and shock. How could she be marrying Zevran of all people? The man who once tried to kill her? The man who hit on anything that moved? Did she honestly think he would, or could, be faithful to her? Zevran's loyalty had always been for sale to the highest bidder, his instinct for survival superseding anything else. Now Emily was entering into a commitment with a man who would literally stab her in the back if the monetary gain presented itself.

If the wedding was to be in Highever, it stood to reason that Anora had restored Emily's family title. This meant that Emily was now Teyrna of Highever. He couldn't remember hearing anything about this in his travels but that didn't necessarily mean anything. After all, the people he usually mingled with were not exactly nobles. Tales of the traveling Grey Warden were far more exciting to them than the news of titles or the goings on at court.

Muttering under his breath, Alistair pulled on his boots. Catching site of himself in the vanity's mirror he winced. His eyes were red and bloodshot, his beard overgrown, and his hair loose and wild around his face. He had let himself go during his travels, finding it easier to just not care about personal grooming. It saved him from people recognizing him as the former Grey Warden who had abandoned his order. Of course, his big mouth usually ended up getting him in trouble as he usually found himself unable to resist the urge to boast about his past accomplishments.

He would have to do something about his appearance before arriving at Castle Cousland. The thought made him pause. Should he go? Emily had been clear that she didn't want to see him again but he realized stopping the wedding was the only choice he had. Now that he had seen her again, held her in his arms, he could no longer imagine the rest of his life without her. The life he had led since he left her had been an empty one. Seeing her again had filled his heart with joy despite their differences. Fate had given them a second chance and he would be a fool to let her go again. No, no matter what he had to do to convince her to take him back he had to do it. Zevran could never love her the way he did; could never make her happy. _And you can? _A small voice inside him asked. He had his chance and despite everything they had been through together he had left her heartbroken. When he had left, his thoughts had been selfish. No thought had been given to the fallout of his actions. Over the years he had not allowed himself to wonder if she missed him; convincing himself that she had never truly loved him. Now he allowed himself to remember what they had been before that day and knew she had never stopped loving him. She had been the first person in his life to honestly express her feelings for him and he knew without a doubt that if she would agree to have him, he would spend the rest of his life making her happy. No matter what he had to convince Emily of that.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I do this merely for entertainment and do not profit from it whatsoever.

A/N: Longest chapter yet. YAY! I may have taken some liberties with Ferelden fashion and the arrangement of marriages amongst the noble families. I hope you enjoy it.

________

Emily sighed happily as she eased into the steaming water, her eyes closing in ecstasy as its warmth enveloped her. Baths were few and far between while on the road and she planned to take advantage of the opportunity as often as she could while she was home. Reclining her head she rolled the word around on her tongue. Did she still consider Highever her home? She looked around the room that had once been hers in another life. When the castle had been restored to her family, they had surprisingly found very little changed. Her room still contained the same armor and weapon stands, the old armoire, and the same big canopied bed. While everything appeared the same she knew it would never be home to her again. It had ceased being home when she left with Duncan that terrible night. Castle Cousland was Fergus' now. His impending wedding insured there would be a teryna beside him. It had taken her brother years to get over the death of his wife and child; Emily was still not sure he had completely come to terms with it. But he appeared to sincerely love his fiancée and Emily was happy for them both.

If only things had been different between her and Alistair. Letting her heavy eyes close once again she allowed herself to finally think about her former love. In the days after she had stalked away from him, she had refused to let herself replay their conversation or her reaction to it. Seeing him again had angered her, certainly, but it also made her inexplicably happy. There had been a wall between them that she was not sure she could have breeched even if she had desired to but when he had embraced her she had once again felt the connection they shared. She had wanted nothing more than to pull him into her tent as she had done so many times before, to start over with him, to forget how much he had hurt her. Stubbornness kept her from accepting his apology. Forgiving him was something she was not ready to do.

"It's not like I _wanted _to do what I did." She muttered aloud.

Lucas, her loyal mabari, whined from his place in front of her closed door. He had heard his mistress have this same argument with herself time and time again. It usually ended up with her either crying or stabbing something. He was relived when neither happened. She had fallen back into silence and seeing his assistance would not be needed to cheer her up and her weapons were safely out of reach, he let himself fall back to sleep.

Emily's thoughts of seeing Alistair again brought back her confrontation with Zevran afterwards. She had been furious with her friend and had not failed to let him know it. Ranting and raving in the middle of the dusty road, he had stood silently waiting for her to finish.

_"I would think you'd not be so eager to see me in the arms of another man!" _

Her shouted accusation had stunned and silenced her, shaming her more than anything when she saw the flinch he couldn't quite hide. She had known for years that Zevran was in love with her but they never discussed it. She had the feeling he preferred her to think his feelings ran no deeper than friendship and she was happy to oblige him. It was easier than trying to define what was between them. There was love of course but one that transcended friendship but fell short of romance; at least on her end of things. She had turned away from him in shame, unable to face him. His arms had embraced her, squeezing tightly when she softly apologized.

_"Do not apologize for being correct. While nothing would give me greater joy than having you for my own, I know that it is not to be. Do not fault me for wanting to see you happy, my dear, even if I am not to be the cause of it."_

Zevran had left her then, melting into the darkness as silently as he had appeared out of it. Whatever anger she had left over at him had left her, leaving her sad that she had caused him any pain. As her journey brought her closer to Highever she had hoped he would come to her but she knew he was avoiding her. What Emily needed was to forget everything for a while; forget that she was a Grey Warden, forget she was the hero of Ferelden, forget Zevran and most of all forget Alistair. Tonight's banquet to celebrate tomorrow's nuptials would not be the ideal situation to do this. She knew people would be excited to see the hero of Ferelden in the flesh. It had been years since the archdemon was killed but her appearance still never failed to create a stir. She hoped to deflect most attention away from herself by reminding the guests that it was her brother's night; she was merely there to congratulate him as were they all. She was more than certain that the finest wine would be in abundance; and that would accomplish the task of getting through the night quite nicely. After all, it had seemed to work for Alistair all these years.

Hours later Emily retired to the atrium, eager to escape the confining heat of the main hall. It seemed as if every noble in Ferelden had turned up to celebrate her brother's wedding and while she enjoyed the gaiety around her, she was too used to the outdoors to not feel a bit suffocated around the crush of so many bodies. The dinner itself had gone well though she had touched very little of the food set before her. As she requested a second bottle of wine be left with her, Fergus leaned over to speak with her quietly.

"Do you not think you've had enough, little sister?" Worry laced his words, his brows furrowed at his sister's rising alcohol level.

Catching the gaze of a young man who had been blatantly staring at her all night, Emily drained her class. She almost wished she had allowed Lucas to accompany her to the banquet instead of returning him to the kennel. "Not nearly enough, Fergus." She remarked raising an eyebrow at the noble's son. She couldn't quite remember the man's name or that of his father if truth be told. There was little doubt he was sizing her up as a potential bride. The teryn's sister, who just happened to be the hero of Ferelden and the country's leader of the Grey Wardens, would be quite the prize for any noble. Arranged marriages were the norm among the nobility and even though she was past the acceptable age of marriage, Emily would not be surprised if Fergus was approached sometime during this night for her hand as if he had any say in who she did or did not marry.

"I worry for you." Fergus was saying, bringing her attention back to him. "You have not been the same since…you returned."

"Everything – and everyone – changes, Fergus."

"It's more than just…growing up. There is a coldness to you now, a sadness in your eyes caused by more than what happened to Mother and Father. While I do not pretend to know what happened between you and the other Grey-"

"Fergus." Emily interjected before he could continue. "You're right, you don't know so please…just leave it." She smiled and raised her glass; once again full with the rich deep colored wine. "Tonight is your night, my brother. Do not worry for me…unless it is to worry that I will faint from loss of breath in this dress."

When the festivities moved to the main hall Emily was more than a little tipsy if not completely drunk. She could almost pretend she was back in the life she had before Arl Howe had betrayed them. Finally after dancing with what seemed to be every noble's son in Ferelden, she managed to slip out a side door, snatching a half full bottle of wine on her way.

Now she sat on one of the atrium's wooden benches, slightly swaying to the music that echoed through the halls of the castle, the bottle of wine clutched tightly in one hand. She could not remember ever being this drunk and rather enjoyed the warm, pleasant sensation. She tilted her had back to look at the stars then closed her eyes. She missed her friends. Most of all she missed Alistair; his wry humor, the smiles meant only for her, his arms holding her, she simply missed everything about him. She thought she had finally gotten used to not having him around. Apparently she had been wrong if one conversation – and kiss – could bring back this feeling of hopeless longing.

As if her thoughts had conjured him, Emily started when Alistair's voice came from the dark shadows of the atrium.

"Emily?"

"A-Alistair?" He stood staring down at her, a slight smile on his face. She stared at him in confusion, the wine making her mind fuzzy. It almost seemed as if she were in the Fade. She rose, her free hand reaching up to touch his cheek, reassuring herself that she was not dreaming. As her hand met his beard, she burst out laughing.

"What…is there something on my face?" He asked, startled by her outburst.

"Yes!" She managed to reply between fits of giggles.

"Stupid question."

"I'm…sorry." She tried to compose herself. "It's not…I'm not laughing because…it's funny. Well…it is, actually. Do you…know…how ridiculous you look with that?" A hiccup escaped her and she covered her mouth with her fingers. "You'll…have to…excuse me. I think…I…may have had…just a tad…too much to drink." She managed to get out, holding up the almost empty bottle.

"You're drunk!" Alistair exclaimed with amusement, his head tilting to the side as he studied her. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you drunk before. Are you always this…giggly?"

She stood up straighter, trying to compose her face in a scowl. "I…am not....giggly." She stated before once again bursting into a fit of giggles and swaying dangerously to the side. "Well…maybe a little." She admitted regaining her balance with Alistair's help. Once she was steady she swatted his hand away and hugged the bottle to her chest, alternating between small hiccups and giggles.

"I have a suggestion, if I may?" Zevran commented as he stepped out of the shadows behind Alistair.

"Zev!" Emily exclaimed throwing herself into his arms and hugging him tightly. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"That's hardly fair." Alistair grumbled. "I get laughed at while you get a hug and an 'I'm so glad to see you'."

"And happy I am to see you, my dear Warden." Zevran answered, ignoring Alistair and setting Emily away from him. "But as I was saying, it might be wise to get you out of here before you cause a scene."

"Oh…right." She said finally able to contain her laughter, though the smile stayed on her face. "My room isn't far, why don't we go there?"

"I'm standing right here, you know." Alistair interjected angrily.

Emily blinked at him stupidly for a moment. "What…no! I didn't mean it that way!" Her eyes darted between the two men. "I only meant that it's private and…oh that doesn't sound right either does it? Oh sod it! I'm going to my room; I don't care what the two of you do." With that she angrily turned, almost losing her balance but quickly regaining her footing. She walked away without looking back, the two men staring worriedly after her as she swayed dangerously.

"Maybe you should…I don't know…go after her?" Alistair remarked, glancing sideways at the smaller man beside him. "Seeing as how she can barely stand."

"If you are so worried, why do you not go after her yourself? You traveled all this way to talk to her, yes? Now is your chance."

"Are you _that _confident?" Alistair asked incredulously. "You're that sure she'll choose you over me?"

"I am confident that she needs you." Zevran answered quietly watching Emily's figure disappear into the shadows of the hall. "As for choosing you…she chose you over anything I could offer a long time ago." Smiling he clapped Alistair on the back. "Now, I can tell by the confused look on your face that you do not understand. Let me make it clear. I am not to wed our dear Grey Warden; not tomorrow, not ever. I left my message with Rosita hoping you would jump to the wrong conclusion as usual. I am pleased you did not disappoint me."

Alistair felt foolish. He should have realized the truth when Zevran had intercepted him trying to sneak into the castle. Instead of trying to stop him, Zevran had merely motioned for him to stay silent and led him to the servant's entrance.

Zevran sighed and shook his head. "Emily has told me to stay out of it. She has told me several times, in fact. While you seem to take everything she says at face value, I on the other hand understand she is hurting and you are the only one who can heal her. I have never seen two people as stubborn as the two of you. She loves you, you love her. It is simple. Forget the past and start anew. Stop being selfish and give her the redemption she seeks. Do you not think you've punished her long enough?"

"I…it was never…it wasn't like that." Alistair finished weakly, stumbling over his words.

"Wasn't it?" Zevran turned his gaze back to Alistair and raised an eyebrow. "I was there, if you remember. Emily begged you to change your mind about leaving."

Alistair opened his mouth to reply then realized he had no answer. Yes, he had left because he could not stand the thought of having to stand beside Loghain as an ally but if he was truthful with himself, he had also left to punish Emily.

"Now go to her." Zevran began to turn away then paused. "Oh and Alistair…do not think in any way I did this for you. My loyalty has and always will lay with Emily. Believe me when I tell you that if you hurt her again, I _will _kill you."

Before Alistair could respond he was gone, melting back into the shadows that had hid him from Emily's sight. "Right." Alistair said to the darkness not able to help feeling a little sorry for the assassin. It was apparent he was in love with Emily but had put that aside to help Alistair find her again. His warning was taken as seriously as it was given, although it had not been necessary.

Alistair strode down the hallway in the direction Emily had taken. Shaky as her balance was he knew she couldn't have gotten far and he was not surprised when he shortly came upon her sitting on the ground, her back against the wall. Emily looked up at him with teary eyes and sniffed.

"I…seem to have fallen. I must have tripped over…something." He couldn't help but think how cute she looked pouting, her full bottom lip sticking out like a petulant child. Alistair could barely contain his laughter.

"Your feet, I would imagine." He remarked kneeling down in front of her.

"It's this dress!" Emily wailed holding up a handful of the sapphire colored material. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk in one of these? No, you don't because you're a _man_. Men get to be comfortable whether they are at court or on the battlefield. But we women must be confined by these…these…_things _that tangle around our legs if we walk too fast or….or…._anything_. It's not fair!"

"Yes, let's blame it on fashion and not the cask of wine you've consumed."

"I haven't….oh all right." Emily sighed. "Will you just help me up?"

"At your service, my lady." Alistair stood, sweeping her into his arms in one graceful motion.

"A-Alistair! That's not what I meant. Put me down!" She pushed against his chest, catching her breath when he squeezed her tightly.

"Hush. Now…where is your room?"

Emily pointed the way then relaxed against him. Her arms circled his neck, her gaze studying his face. "I had forgotten." She murmured.

"What's that?" Alistair asked distracted by the warmth of her body. Her presence had always caused him to lose his head a little and he prayed he could make it to her door before both of them ended up sprawled on the hard stone floor.

"How handsome you are." Emily answered, one hand moving to his face. She tugged at his beard lightly. "I don't like this though. It hides your features which happen to be very pleasing to the eye."

"Are you sure? It took me years to grow."

Emily let her head fall to his shoulder, her fingers moving to his hair. "What happened to my Alistair?"

"Well, I meant to…clean up…before I arrived but…" His voice trailed off when he realized she was no longer listening to him. She was humming softly to herself, a small smile on her lips.

Alistair's mind raced, wondering what to do once they reached her room. There was so much he wanted to say to her but she was in no condition to hear them. He would be lucky if she remembered anything about this evening. No, he would see her safely to her room then he would leave. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to clear the air between them. Being that there was no wedding for him to stop they would have plenty of time.

His footsteps slowed to a stop when he heard her emit a soft snore. He took the opportunity to study her sleeping face. Her blonde hair appeared paler and longer, the tendrils of loose hair framing her face in soft curls. The tight dress she wore hugged the curves of her body, the low neckline revealing the rounded tops of her breasts. Alistair's face reddened as his body responded to memories of those breasts bare in the dim light of her tent.

He resumed walking to her room thankful the halls were empty. The urge to lose himself in her was almost overwhelming. She was the only woman whose mere presence could invoke such a reaction of lust from him. There had been something about her from the very beginning that had drawn him to her. When he had received Duncan's message about the new recruit, Alistair had groaned inwardly; a noble and not just any noble, a teryn's daughter. Instead of a new sister he would be stuck with a spoiled princess who would look at him with distaste any time he opened his mouth. But Emily had been nothing like he expected. She was smart, beautiful and had a sense of humor.

Even if she didn't always follow it, she listened to his advice and seemed to genuinely value his opinion. His fear of things changing between them had caused him to hide his birthright from her but even then she had understood, forgiving him for his deception without a second thought. The times he had spent with her had been the happiest times of his life and he had messed it up by second guessing her; by failing to even attempt to understand her motives. Before he had been unable to imagine his life without her in it; now he had lived every excruciating minute of it. He was an idiot for leaving and an even bigger one for not returning. It had taken him too long to realize how big of a mistake he had made. Now he would make it up to her…if she would allow him to. He prayed she would.

Finally arriving at her door, he managed to open the door careful not to wake her although he doubted a full scale battle could awaken her at the moment. The room was lit only by a single candle beside the bed. By its dim light he could make out little of the room only shadowy shapes that he could indentify as an armor stand, weapon stand and armoire. He could picture her familiar leather armor and daggers having seen her in them day after day for years. Despite the constant danger and traveling, he still considered those the best times of his life. It had been the only time in his life where he had found true friends. All of them had known he was a bastard prince but none had treated him any different for it. The constant teasing of his relationship with Emily, the bickering over who was to stand watch first or who would prepare dinner that night; all of it made him feel so _normal_. And among it all was Emily; the teryn's daughter turned Grey Warden who looked to him for guidance, consulted with him as to what their next plan of action should be, smiled at him like he was the only man in the world.

Alistair crossed the room and laid Emily down gently on its surface. Removing her shoes he set them on the floor and covered her with a blanket he found on the bench in front of the bed. He tucked the end under her chin and leaned down kissing her softly on the forehead. He began to stand back up when Emily's hand grabbed his in a tight grip.

"Don't leave me. Please." She whispered, her eyes pleading.

"Are you sure…that's what you want?" He asked his heart racing from her touch.

Emily nodded. "I just…will you just hold me? Is that ok?"

Alistair smiled and ran a thumb over her cheek, catching a tear that she was not aware had fallen. "Of course that's ok. Let me just get the light."

He stood, blew out the candle and removed his boots. Emily sighed as he lay beside her and took her in his arms. He felt her relax against him, her head on his chest. She squeezed his waist tightly with one arm, throwing a leg over his. Closing his eyes, Alistair tried to slow his breathing, praying she did not notice the effect she was having on him. Her knee was dangerously close to the evidence of his desire and trying to shift into a more comfortable position did little to resolve the situation. Emily stirred, moving closer to him and his eyes snapped open as she grazed him, his self control nearly snapping when she moaned in contentment as she found a comfortable position for herself. He stared sightlessly at bed's canopy trying to think of anything but her warm body pressed against him. His mind latched onto the Chant of Light and he recited it silently to himself until he heard her speak into the darkness.

"Why are you here?"

"Because you asked me to stay?" He asked and gave a mock grunt of pain when she slapped his stomach.

"Don't avoid the question."

Alistair sighed. "I may have…thought you were marrying….Zevran."

Emily raised her head to look at him and laugh. "Me? Marrying Zev?"

Alistair scowled. He could feel his face reddening. "He may have…implied it. Is it really surprising that I believed it? In case you've forgotten, you did tell me you were in love with him."

"Hmm." She answered, her head falling back to his chest. "So you thought to come here and stop me? Why? Am I not allowed to be happy?"

"Of course you're allowed to be happy. But you don't belong with him, you belong with-"

"You?" Emily interrupted. "In case _you've _forgotten, you told me your place was no longer by my side. In fact, you made it quite clear you never wanted anything to do with me again."

Alistair wished she had not remembered his exact words but was not surprised. He had spoken them in anger, not really meaning what he said. Childishly he had been trying to hurt her. "I said a lot of stupid things that I wish I could take back."

"I never knew words could hurt more than a blade." She paused and he thought she had fallen asleep until she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. "One of the last things my father said to me was 'we are Couslands…we always do our duty above all else'. I left with Duncan that night; left my father bleeding on the pantry floor, my mother holding him…the two of them waiting for Howe's men to find and slaughter them. They were so brave. So to honor them, to make their death worth something…I did my duty. I put the Blight before everything in my life; I put it before you. I didn't _want _to spare him, Alistair. I stood there looking down at his bowed head and I wanted to kill him. I wanted to hurt him for everything he had done; for taking away the people you considered family. I knew what it was like to lose everyone you care about in one horrifying night and I wanted to make him pay. Then Riordin interceded and I thought…I thought to use him. I would spare him to make him into the very thing he despised. I would make him see that he was wrong about you, about me…about everything he believed in. His punishment wasn't becoming a Grey Warden so much as it was taking away his pride."

Emily paused again her tears making a wet circle on his shirt. Alistair's hand stroked her back, his throat tight with emotion. He wanted to tell her it was alright, that he understood but he couldn't get anything past the lump in his throat. Finally composing herself, she continued her voice hesitant.

"Later on…I…was happy you had left. You didn't know, couldn't know, because Duncan never had the chance to tell us. But you were gone…safe. I came to terms with my death. I could die knowing you weren't in danger and I had made sure you weren't king so you could be happy. But then…he took the blow instead and I had to live without you. I thought _that _would kill me. You were all around me…in everything I saw, everything I heard…but I couldn't see you, couldn't touch you. All I had were these…memories of you, these phantoms that taunted me. I had done my duty and in doing so I lost my family all over again. I lost you."

Though his eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room, Alistair could not see through the tears in his eyes. Some of her confession confused him but he finally understood why she had done what she had.

"I am so sorry, Emmie." He managed to say, his arms tightening around her slender frame.

"Now you're here," she continued as if she hadn't heard him. "I don't know how to tell you to go…but I can't ask you to stay. I had finally learned how to live without you. I don't know if I can do it again."

"You won't have to." Alistair promised then realized she had fallen back to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A/N: I apologize for the delay in updating. I have been working on this chapter almost daily and I'm still not completely happy with it. But I'm at the point where if I edit it anymore I'm never going to finish this story so here you go. :) Hope you enjoy.

_____

He should leave. That was the only thought his mind could focus on as he sat in the chair beside Emily's bed. It had been hours since one of the servants had knocked softly on the bedroom door and entered. The sound of the elven woman's voice had wakened him. Her face had suffused with color upon finding the couple, limbs entwined, sprawled out on the large bed. In his haste to leave the bed and intercept the woman before she could turn tail and run, Alistair became tangled in the bedclothes and promptly fell to the floor.

"A-Are you alright, my lord?" The servant asked coming to stand over him.

Alistair stared up at the small woman. He could see she was trying to suppress a smile at his ungraceful exit from the bed. He groaned, laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

"I'm fine. But when you're re-telling this later could you…leave out the part where I fall?"

"Of course, my lord." She bit her lip and glanced in Emily's still sleeping form. "I came to see if her ladyship would like something for her head."

Alistair sat up and rubbed the back of his head. "I suppose her…condition…was apparent to all last night?"

The woman lowered her eyes to the floor and wrung her hands. "No, my lord. I only noticed because I was serving at the banquet last night. I…should not have mentioned it."

"No, it's fine…really." A snore came from the lady in question and Alistair smiled. "I don't think she requires anything right now but that potion might be a good idea later."

"Very well, my lord."

The woman turned to take her leave, pausing when Alistair picked himself up from the floor and spoke.

"Wait…do you think it would be possible to bring some water….and maybe a razor or something?"

Alistair sat now staring at Emily's sleeping form and thought he really needed to leave. While he couldn't be sure, he suspected the servant would report back to the teryn that a strange man had been found in his sister's room. The last thing Alistair needed right now was an irate brother bursting through the door.

Alistair rubbed his jaw, still not used to the absence of a beard. His skin was sensitive to the touch now with nothing protecting it. It would take some getting used to; much like his hair that made him afraid to look into a mirror. The small hand mirror he had managed to find was only large enough to keep him from hurting himself. He had managed to hack it off but he was no barber and he knew it probably looked awful. Running a hand through the now short hair, he _thought _it didn't feel that awful but one never knew. A soft sigh came from the bed. Alistair froze, his eyes quickly coming back to Emily.

Emily stretched then sat up. Her amber eyes met his, holding his gaze even as her face turned red. "I-I…thought you had gone." She finally said to break the long silence between them.

I should really go Alistair thought yet again. Sometime during the night her dress had ripped at one shoulder causing one side to fall leaving it bare. The skirts were bunched around her thighs and the already low cut bodice now exposed a dangerous amount of skin. Alistair tried desperately not to stare. He pulled his gaze away from hers and cleared his throat.

"I…ah….probably should have. I'm afraid in trying to avoid causing a scene we have created a scandal. I expect your brother to challenge me to a duel any moment now."

"Oh dear. I'm guessing Deyna came to check on me. I keep telling her not to bother, I don't need to be waited on." Emily bit her lip then finally realized her state of almost undress. She gasped and quickly pulled her skirts back down and her bodice up. After several unsuccessful attempts to keep the dress on her shoulder she gave up. "Well I suppose it's nothing you've never seen before. Come help get these blasted pins out of my hair, they are killing me." Seeing him hesitate, she grinned. "I can almost promise no one will be coming to kill you."

Alistair's heart was pounding. It took all his willpower not to bolt for the door like a frightened child. He moved to sit beside her on the bed and forced himself to keep his eyes on her hair. It had been fashioned in a series of elaborate braids that had then been pinned up with what seemed to be thousands of hair pins. Pushing Emily's hands out of the way he began to clumsily remove them, feeling her eyes on him.

Emily ran her fingers over his jaw. "Much better…and don't worry…your hair will grow back."

Alistair laughed, some of the tension leaving him. He pulled the last pin free and unbraided her hair. Her long curls fell over his hands and he lightly massaged her scalp. Emily moaned and rested her forehead on his chest.

"You have no idea how good that feels. I will stab the first person who tries to touch my hair today."

"I hope you mean the _next _person." Alistair remarked, his fingers moving to the back of her neck. He kneaded gently, placing a small kiss on the top of her head. "Emmie…we need to talk."

"I know." She answered softly. Turning her head she rested her cheek on his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist.

They sat there, both seeming to be unable to find the words. Alistair's thoughts flitted from one subject to the next. Emily's warm body pressed against him, added to the familiar scent of her hair distracted him from holding onto any one thought longer than a heartbeat. Lying beside her all night had been pure torture. He had lain awake most of the night longing to make love to her. Every small movement she had made sent a bolt of desire running through him. Even now it took every ounce of willpower he had not to kiss her. He suspected she would not resist but first they needed to clear the air between them.

Alistair opened his mouth to say _something_, anything to break the silence between them before his urges overtook him completely. Before he could utter a word, Emily spoke.

"I killed Loghain."

The statement had as much effect as a bucket of cold water. Alistair blinked temporarily losing his ability to speak.

"I didn't sink my blade into his flesh but I killed him all the same," Emily continued when he failed to respond. "Do you know how I said I was happy that you were gone? That's because…whomever strikes the killing blow against the archdemon…dies. After we were told, Morrigan was waiting for me in my room."

Alistair finally found his voice and snorted. "Where Morrigan goes trouble follows."

"No, she had a proposition for me. She told me there was a way to avoid either of us dying. Old magic she called it. All that was required was for me to convince Loghain to…lay with her."

"As much as I hated the man, I can't blame him for refusing."

Emily hesitated then continued. "I never told him," she said softly. "I didn't want a loophole. I was prepared to die because I didn't have much more to live for. I see how stupid that was now but at the time my whole world was falling down around me. We brought the archdemon down but before I could take that blow, Loghain stopped me. He asked to take it himself and while I spared his life once I did not have it in me to do so again."

"It's not your fault. When faced with choice of your life over someone else, no one can blame you for wanting to survive. Especially when it's someone as despicable as he was."

"But if I had told of him of – "

"I wouldn't trust Morrigan further than I could throw her. Who knows why she really wanted to help you and who's to say that what she proposed would even work?"

Emily pulled away to look up at him. "Don't you see though, Alistair? If you were there I would have had to make the choice between losing your love by asking you to do it or risking you losing your life. And Maker help me but I would have begged you to do it."

Alistair cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that were running down her cheeks.

"Emmie, you are the only woman I have ever been with. You are the only woman I ever _want _to be with. But if I had to do…_that _to possibly save your life, I wouldn't hesitate. And no matter what happened between us, I could never stop loving you." One side of his mouth lifted in a grin. "Trust me I've been trying for four years. It's just not happening."

Emily let out a small laugh though her tears and leaned forward kissing him lightly.

Alistair followed when she tried to pull away, catching her lips in a kiss that left no doubt about his desire for her. The tight reign of control he had been holding on to all night frayed. He kissed her passionately and was gratified at her low moan of approval. Her hands worked the ends of his shirt out of his trousers and he broke the kiss, pulling back so she could pull it over his head.

Emily rose from the bed and found the laces to her dress. She held his gaze as she undid them slowly, letting the ruined material fall to a silken puddle at her feet.

Alistair's eyes fell to her body. Her skin was unblemished except for a few faded scars scattered here and there. Reaching out, he touched one that ran across her flat stomach then grasped her waist and pulled her between his knees.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered pressing his face between her breasts. He slowly pulled down the only remaining piece of clothing she wore, turning his head to kiss the curve of one full breast before moving to the other.

Emily's fingers dug into the skin of his shoulder when she felt one hand move up the soft flesh of her inner thigh. When his seeking fingers found the wetness between her legs she moaned, pressing against his hand. His mouth found the sensitive tip of one breast and drew it into his mouth and Emily's head fell back her breath becoming ragged with the tension she could feel building inside her.

She let out a small sound of disappointment when Alistair stopped and stood. Her hands immediately went to his trousers, undoing the laces and impatiently pushing them down over his hips. These joined the small pile of clothes collecting on the floor.

Deftly lifting her he turned to lay her gently on the bed. He quickly covered her with his body and Emily gasped as he entered her, her legs rising to wrap around his waist.

Alistair rested his forehead on her shoulder, his body pressing her down into the soft surface beneath them.

"Wait," he breathed not daring to move. He was very close to losing the small bit of control he had left. If he allowed himself to move it would be over.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked her body moving against his restlessly.

Alistair sucked in a sharp breath when she ground her hips against him. "I…just give me a minute."

"Alistair," She whispered, her hand touching his cheek. When he looked at her she smiled. "I love you."

Their mouths met and he could no longer hold back. His thrusts were deep, her small whimpers encouraging him to go faster. It wasn't long before he felt her tighten around him, her body straining to get even closer to his.

Hearing her cries of pleasure sent him over the edge. His head dropped back to her shoulder, his hoarse cry of release muffled against her skin.

Slowly his surroundings came back to him. Emily's hands ran over his back lightly, her legs still clasped tightly around him. Alistair lifted his head wearily and kissed her softly.

"Marry me," he said when they parted, pushing back a tendril of hair that stuck to her damp forehead.

Emily blinked at him. Her hands ceased movement on his back. "W-What?"

Before he could answer a hesitant knock on the door startled them both.

"I-It's Deyna, my lady," the voice on the other side of the door said. "The teryn has asked that I help you prepare for the ceremony."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

A/N: YAY two chapters in one day AND it's now complete.

_____

The line of well wishers was never ending. Emily stood behind her brother and his new wife as they accepted the congratulations as one by one the wedding's guests stopped to talk to the happy couple. She kept her eyes trained on the back of Fergus's head, refusing to search for Alistair in the crowd.

Emily was almost positive he had attended the ceremony. One man had arrived late, ducking into the main hall at the last moment. She only been able to catch a glimpse of blonde hair before the man disappeared into the crowd. From that time forward she could swear she could feel his eyes on her.

Their parting late this morning had been awkward. It had been her fault, she knew that. Alistair had tried to talk to her after Deyna left with Emily's request for a few more minutes. He had tried to ask her again to marry him; tried to do it properly although the effect was thrown off by his nakedness. She had seen the hurt in his eyes when she refused to answer him.

As Emily retrieved her discarded dress and clutched it to her chest she babbled about inconsequential things like the dress she would be wearing to the wedding and the tortures of a formal hairstyle. She knew her ramblings weren't making any sense as she jumped from one subject to the other with hardly a breath in between. For the first time in all the years she had known Alistair, it was she who was flustered while he sat calmly watching her. She had barely been able to tie the sash of her dressing robe before rushing out of the room. She grabbed Deyna's arm as she passed, hurriedly ushering the astonished servant into one of the nearby guest rooms.

Now she stood waiting for an opportunity to slip away. Seeing her chance she stepped forward to whisper in her brother's ear, the words getting lost when she glanced up to see Alistair standing before them.

"Congratulations, my lord," he was saying to Fergus although his gaze held Emily's. She shook her head imperceptibly, silently begging him not to cause a scene. With a grin and a raised eyebrow he bowed to the bridge. "My lady, I only hope my bride is half as joyous as you are this day."

Alistair moved on without a backwards glance. Emily let out the breath she was holding and found her voice, quickly telling her brother she needed some air. Stepping out of the main hall she made her way through the crush of people, sighing in relief when she entered an empty hallway. Letting her feet guide her she found herself at the kennels.

Lucas barked happily when he saw her, jumping around enthusiastically when she opened the door and let him out. Ensuring that the door was firmly closed behind him, Emily sat on the ground, her back against the stone wall. The faithful mabari followed, laying his head in her lap.

Emily ran her hand down the large animal's back, drawing comfort from him.

"It is not like me to run away from something," she remarked. "But lately it seems like all I do is run away."

Lucas whined and she sighed.

"Alistair has asked me to marry him."

The dog's tail wagged and he lifted his head letting out a happy bark.

"Yes, I suppose I should be happy. And I _am _happy. But I don't think Alistair has realized that our lives together would never be normal."

"What if he doesn't want a normal life?" Alistair asked appearing from around the corner. He leaned a shoulder on the hard surface and crossed his arms.

Emily froze for a moment, not looking at him. She kept her gaze on Lucas, her hand resuming the rhythmic petting.

"We would never have children," her voice caught and she bit her lip.

"Children aren't necessary."

"And my life is on the road now. I am a Grey Warden; I have an obligation to rebuild the order. He once told me he didn't want to travel. And we'd never have a proper home. I don't think I could settle down to a nice quiet life."

Alistair moved to kneel in front of her. Putting a finger under her chin he forced her to meet his gaze.

"I want you. I want you to be my wife. I will always have a proper home because my home is with you. If that is following you are the countryside carrying your bags or helping you rebuild the order, I will be happy."

Emily stared at him, wanting with her very being to believe him. Years ago she allowed herself to dream that they would be together forever. She allowed herself to get caught up in the unspoken promises of a prince who could not guarantee anything. Because of the love she held for him she respected his wishes and refused to put him on the throne believing that by her action they would have a chance to be together. Then she watched him shatter all those dreams, unable to convince him to trust her. Looking at him now she realized her reasons for saying no were just excuses. She was scared.

"How do I know I can…trust him?" She whispered, her throat aching from the effort of speaking past the lump in her throat.

"Because that man who left you standing the landsmeet chamber was an idiot. He was stubborn and idealistic. He didn't realize what you felt for him was true. That man has grown up, he has seen the world and he's realized that things aren't black and white. He…._I _love you. I am so sorry I hurt you. Please…give me a chance to prove I will never leave your side again."

Emily closed her eyes, the tears she was holding back finally slipping down her cheeks. She grasped his wrist, turning her head to kiss the hand that was gently cupping her face. She was tired of pretending she didn't love him anymore. She was tired of going to bed without him, tired of waking up alone, tired of _living _without him. Hating him took too much effort.

"Yes," she finally said smiling through her tears.

"Yes?" Alistair parroted in astonishment.

"You can't change your mind now." Emily teased feeling lighter than she had in years.

"No, it's not that," he answered quickly. "I just expected more groveling. Maybe some swordplay or-"

Emily stopped his flow of words with her mouth her arms going around his neck to pull him close. Finally after losing her parents, ending a civil war, stopping a blight and becoming a hero…she was home.


End file.
